Spotless
by kaylbunny
Summary: Preslash RyanEric. 'Eric hadn't intended on getting drunk, but then he didn't think he'd be waking up in a show home either.'


Title - Spotless

By - Kaylbunny

Fandom - CSI: Miami

Pairing: Ryan/Eric (pre-slash)

Rating - G

Notes - Written for Leighanne's birthday and inspired by an Egg clever-dumb balance advert that we always laugh at.

Eric hadn't intended on getting drunk, but then he didn't think he'd be waking up in a show home either. As he blearily opened his eyes he tried to remember what had transpired the night before and how he'd come to be in a room that was, frankly, so clean it was creeping him out. Even through his sleepy eyes he could tell that the cushions on the chair opposite the couch he was lying on were expertly plumped, the chair itself looking like it had never been sat on. The coffee table right before his eyes looked as if it hadn't come across a speck of dust in all its wooden life, and a plug in air freshener was busy pumping lavender scent around the room.

When he realised that he couldn't remember anything past the last club he went in, Eric was beginning to think he'd been kidnapped by a house-proud date rapist. It could happen.

His hangover made itself known as he sat up, but he ignored it with the skill of a long time clubber; he'd had worse in the past, and would no doubt inflict it upon himself in the future. Usually when he woke up in strange houses it was lying in bed beside some hottie, not on an uncomfortable couch with no recollection of how he'd gotten there. With a sigh of relief he found that his wallet was still in his pocket and a quick check through showed nothing missing, so, first things first; find out where the fuck he was and then run away if necessary.

He bypassed the front door and made his way into the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was that it looked more sterile than any hospital he'd been in, and he was beginning to notice a trend with the clean thing; his own kitchen at home had a sink full of dirty dishes and probably some food left on a counter. The second thing that came to his attention was a bottle of water and a couple tablets on top of a note. The note read: Take these; they'll make you feel better. I'll be on the balcony (through the door on your right).

There was no way in hell he was touching the water and pills, but he would go to the balcony if only to sate his curiosity. He opened the door to his right and walked into a bedroom, and if he hadn't seen who was sitting at a table on the balcony, he would have noted that the room, though just as clean as the others, looked quite comfy. Ryan Wolfe sat behind the glass doors to the balcony and was waving him over (and, quick as lightning striking, the clean thing suddenly made sense). He didn't look pissed off, so Eric guessed he hadn't hit on him or thrown up over his favourite shirt or something.

He was actually kind of glad that Ryan had taken him home, because if the bits of memory he was beginning to get back were right, he'd been in quite a state when he ran into the other CSI in the street. Obviously Ryan had no idea where Eric lived so he'd just taken him home with him, and he was grateful for it; he didn't want to think of where he'd have ended up otherwise.

It was possible that his hangover and mother nature were conspiring against him (but he thought it probably had something to do with the glass doors being so fucking clean) because as he reached out to slide open the door, he realised that he was leaning too far forward and, actually, the door was already open and it was going to hurt like hell when he fell to the floor.

Eric heard rather than saw Ryan come over, asking if he was alright. "That wouldn't have happened if it was windy," he grumbled, and ignored Ryan as he asked what the hell he was talking about, and if he needed a hand. Ryan obviously got the hint that his help wasn't needed because he stepped back to give Eric space to pull himself up, and sat himself down at the table while waiting for the older man to come over. "If you ever mention that to anyone, I'll hurt you," he threatened as he sat down, but Ryan just grinned back at him.

"Do you want some breakfast?"

Eric looked at the food Ryan had in front of him; a sandwich that he didn't even want to guess the contents of, and a glass of juice. "What the hell's in that?" he asked, looking at the concoction in front of him.

"Peanut butter, chopped banana and chocolate spread," Ryan answered, completely serious, and Eric stared at him like he was insane. "I like it," he went on, a little defensively. "It's sweet, savoury, and one of my five-a-day."

Eric couldn't help but laugh. "I don't get you." He was expecting Ryan to make a sarcastic comment, but was confused by the response he received.

"Do you want to?"

The question was spoken so deliberately and seriously that Eric actually took the time to think about his answer. Ryan Wolfe irritated and confused him more than anyone else he'd ever met, but somehow that just seemed to endear him to Eric all the more. Once he got over his initial hostility to the new CSI, he had to admit that he carried on arguing with Ryan because he enjoyed it; the younger man such a sharp wit that Eric only wanted to hear what he'd come out with next. He was good at his job too, even though he had less experience than the rest of them. He hadn't given Ryan a fair chance before; maybe he could change that now.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I think I do."

Ryan's smile lit up his whole face and for a second the whole falling over and humiliating himself ordeal seemed worth it. For a second.

"First you have to eat this," Ryan demanded, sliding over the plate with half his sandwich on.

Eric rolled his eyes. "I'd rather chew glass."

Ryan smirked. "Isn't that what you tried to do a few minutes ago?"

And that was how Eric was reminded that Ryan Wolfe was the most irritating person he knew.


End file.
